For What?
by anorakofavalon
Summary: Takes place during Endgame. A moment between Bruce and Natasha. The most important moment in the Universe.


When Clint told them Natasha was gone… that hurt. It hurt in ways he wasn't expecting to feel hurt. For the first time in a few years, Bruce felt rage. Rage unlike any he had felt in a long while. And it didn't matter. It made no difference. What was he going to do about it? Hulk out?

In a certain way, hulking out was really a relief mechanism. If the Hulk was the one feeling the rage, that meant Bruce didn't have to. He could just lick his wounds and wallow in self-pity after the fact. But now? Now what? What was he supposed to do with all the pain if he was already the Hulk?

It used to run down his back, tearing at his skin in an excruciating conversion from man to monster. It used to seize his muscles like the worst cramp of all time. It pounded at his head until he was blissfully liminal. It was so very simple back then and he found himself yearning for it now.

No. Stop. Natasha wouldn't have wanted that. Bruce fell to a knee. He felt Tony's pitiful stare and Steve's hand on his back. He pounded the glass beneath him half-heartedly. Anger wouldn't do anything now.

A solemn moment passed.

The Avengers went out to the water, and Bruce vented by ripping a bench from its place and throwing it out across the lake. He huffed for a beat. And then he settled on contemplating her.

Natasha died. Nat was dead. Nat sacrificed herself. Nat sacrificed herself for the stone. Nat was dead.

Bruce stared out over the water and he just… remembered. Movie nights at the tower, games of chess, hulka-hulka burning fudge. He remembered laughter and giggles and prank wars with the Avengers. He remembered heartfelt chats by the midnight moon, and exchanged cups of tea. But mostly he settled on thinking about who she was. To Clint. To Tony. To Steve. To him. A sister, a friend, a partner, a… what was she to Bruce? Hard to say. More than she should have been, and yet not nearly enough.

Time ticked.

A hero. Natasha was a hero.

"We have to make it mean something" Bruce said.

Everyone else watched him as he took the lead back inside. Natasha had wiped the red off her ledger a thousand times over during her time as an Avenger. She never knew it, but she was a hero. Or, at the very least, she was to him. She was _his_ hero.

He lumbered towards the gauntlet.

"Are you sure about this Banner?" Tony offered with hesitation.

He smiled sadly. "It emits gamma radiation. It's almost like…."

Natasha used to tell him he wasn't a monster. He disagreed. But she was right. She always had been. Natasha died for _this_ moment.

"I was made for this."

Bruce plunged his hand into the gauntlet as it slowly expanded to fit his giant hand. The moment his fingers slipped into place, he felt the pain.

Bruce Banner was never a man who sought power or fame or riches. He sought… nothing in particular, really. He just wanted to discover things. That was the backbone of his science. He was always looking for something, and yet nothing in particular.

As the power of the cosmos coursed through his atoms like a lightning bolt moving through the air, he wondered if this was his punishment for not hurting in the last few years. For being happy. It wasn't an unfamiliar pain. It was the pain of transformation but on a cosmic scale.

Bruce Banner was never meant to have this much power. He fell back, and he vaguely heard his friends yelling his name, but he held it together. This wasn't about them or him or how much pain he felt or how much power he had. This was about Natasha. Rising up to one knee, Bruce willed his fingers to come together, and then-

The pain stopped. Just for a moment.

He looked down at his hands. They were his own. Bruce's. Not the Hulk's. He snapped his head up and found himself in… nothing in particular. And in all that vast nothing was Natasha.

"Nat, am I dead?"

She smiled a little. "Not that I know of."

He moved towards her, feet dragging slightly through water. The sky was red, but it was peaceful.

"Did I bring you back?"

She moved into his arms and gave him a hug. She felt warm. "No. But not for a lack of trying."

He started to cry then, in the middle of nowhere. In an ocean of nothingness.

"I'm so sorry Nat. I'm sorry."

Natasha smiled at him sadly. "For what? For when you left me to go play gladiator in an alien planet? Or the time you stole one of my pancakes during breakfast?"

Bruce looked at her incredulously and started to chuckle until his laughter was mixed with sobs.

"That's not fair."

She pulled him in for another embrace. "I know, Bruce. But I'm not sorry."

"About making me cry or about…"

She ran a thumb across his cheek, wiping away a tear.

Putting his forehead to hers, he ventured "You're not… alone here? I don't want you to be alone."

"I'm not alone, Bruce. And neither are you."

He nodded. Bruce felt a pull on his consciousness. "I think it's time to go."

She smiled. "Thank you Bruce."

"I'll miss you" he said softly.

She grinned a little. "What for? I'll see you in a minute."

He stepped back, watching her all the while as his vision began to blur.

"And Bruce? Thank you. For everything."

He blinked into nothing.

And then the pain. He felt the gauntlet come off as Tony and Steve fretted over him. It was excruciating but he was satisfied. He did it.

A revelation came. He had spent most of his life looking for knowledge, and he found plenty. Awards, prizes, revolutionary scientific discoveries. Those were all mere shadows compared to the thing that had found _him _instead. Family. Love. Natasha. Tony. Steve. Thor. Clint.

Natasha.

He thought back to something Tony said once, on the helicarrier all those years ago.

Tony had swiped away the data he was hiding behind. "Hey, I've read all about your accident. That much gamma exposure should have killed you."

Bruce paused. Froze in place. He tensed his jaws. "So you're saying that the Hulk… the other guy… saved my life?"

Bruce nodded to himself and looked up at Tony. "That's nice. It's a nice sentiment. Saved it for what?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, a glint of his eye. At the time, Bruce hadn't been sure if it was mischief or certainty or hope or… even trust.

"I guess we'll find out."

It was for this. A snap. A moment with Natasha in the middle of nowhere. A family.


End file.
